


Paternus

by Maggiemaye



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Board Games, Child Loss, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mentions of Amanda, tags to be updated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-16 19:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9285860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maggiemaye/pseuds/Maggiemaye
Summary: Cabe considers himself lucky to have had even one daughter, even for a short time. He never would have imagined he’d eventually end up with three.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a short and hopefully sweet look at Cabe and the girls (because That Scene with Happy in the last ep was a series highlight let's be honest.) Thank you SO MUCH to those who have been sounding boards and quick betas for this! I'm hoping to have it all written and posted soon :) As always feel free to let me know what you think!

Cabe Gallo knows a thing or two about fatherhood.  
  
In a way, the things he knows about fatherhood are the most important assets he brings to Scorpion. Protect the kids, but be honest with them. Support them while teaching them how to make their own way. Most importantly, realize that every kid is different. What resonates with one might fly right past another, and it’s back to square one again.  
  
Of course, he learned those things as the father of a little girl. Cabe knows exactly how to fix any little-girl issue that might cross his path; the paternal instinct has stayed with him long after it was technically needed. It has been like a phantom limb for much of his adult life. But now that he’s become a part of the team, he finds himself stretching the fatherhood muscle nearly as much as the Homeland muscle. Genius issues, life issues, little-girl issues…at the end of the day they all end up looking similar.   
  
One of the most important things fatherhood has taught him is that life has a way of defying expectations at every turn. Cabe considers himself lucky to have had even one daughter, even for a short time. He never would have imagined he’d eventually end up with three.


	2. Happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Cabe can't win a board game to save his life :)

His youngest daughter is about as tightly wound as a coil spring. Cabe used to believe that she was made of steel all the way down to her core; it takes a year or so for him to realize that is exactly the way she wants to be seen. As he gets to know her, Cabe sees how desperately she hides that soft part of her. There are still times he believes she does too good a job. 

Then again, Happy never once complains about him taking up residence on her couch for weeks. She wordlessly adjusts her daily routine to accommodate him, including giving him control of the stove every morning and three nights a week. She even humors him when he shows her all the board games he’d brought over. Cabe isn’t discouraged by the blank looks she throws his way at first; he figures there’s no point in living with somebody if you don’t spend quality time together. And as Happy realizes she can beat Cabe in almost any game they play, she starts to warm up to the idea.

One night after dinner, she gets out the Chinese checkers before he even has the chance to ask.

“Best two out of three?” she asks with a bright smile, and Cabe doesn’t expect it to be so contagious.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you like having me around.”

The smile disappears. “Whatever. Just get your marbles and prepare to lose. Again.”

* * *

  
Eventually, neither of them has to ask to play a game after dinner. It becomes a given, a necessary part of their nightly routine. They always turn on the TV but rarely watch; on this particular night, it’s M.A.S.H that hums in the background.

Cabe peers over his army of dominoes to see Happy holding her last two. “You’re killing me, kiddo.”

She looks across the coffee table at him, with the tiniest of smirks. Cabe should have known better than to play a game of strategy with a genius. It just makes him feel slow.

“Face it, old man, you’re toast,” Toby pipes up, sneaking a glance at Cabe’s hand. He’s opted to kick back in Happy’s recliner and watch their game, while providing his usual commentary.

“Why did we invite him again?” he asks Happy, who shrugs as Toby checks his watch.

“Gotta run,” he announces. “Better luck next time, Cabe.”

Cabe grunts out a response of sorts, but Toby’s attention has already shifted to Happy. He kisses her temple on his way out and Happy looks vaguely baffled by the attention, even after all this time. Cabe can’t help but chuckle as he watches her.

“What’s so funny?” she grumbles after Toby shuts the door behind him.

“That deer in the headlights face you get.” He takes a drink of soda. Happy knots her eyebrows, and he doesn’t miss the slight flush that comes to her face.

“Maybe I’m just always shocked by how annoying he is.”

Cabe gives her his patented “really?” stare, one of the tricks he’d had up his parenthood sleeve long ago. It turns out not to work quite as well on Happy.

“It’s your turn,” she says pointedly, ignoring his bait. Cabe tries not to grin too much as he puts a domino down. They finish the hand in silence, exactly the way they both like it.

* * *

 

She comes home late from the garage one night. Cabe wakes up with a start and gets to his feet when he hears the front door open.

“Happy?” he barks into the dark living room, relaxing his posture once he’s confirmed it’s her. “You okay, kiddo?”

She doesn’t say anything, but instead vaults herself into his chest, arms clamped around him as she gasps out vicious sobs. Cabe wonders only briefly until, like a brick in his stomach, he doesn’t have to wonder anymore.

She’s still shaking by the time she pulls back, and his shirt has snot all over the front.

“The baby…” he says gently, just to confirm his suspicions.

“Never existed.” She swipes at her nose. “I was never pregnant.”

Cabe blinks. This is a twist on his assumption, but still closer to home for him than Happy probably realizes. One more thing he’d learned as the father of a little girl; the devastation of lost hope. He doesn’t have the words to tell her. Even after all these years, he isn’t smart enough to explain. Grief leaves a crater, that much he knows. Cabe supposes that it can be filled with enough time and distraction, but there is no erasing the point of impact.

Happy looks smaller even than usual in the dark. Cabe knows how resilient she is, but he also knows that this isn’t just a small bump in the road. This is the glimmer of a future snuffed out before it even had the chance to grow. So he drags her back in for another hug.

“Um,” she says, calmer but still looking lost, “thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She walks down the hall and into her bedroom before he can reply. When he sees her the next morning, Cabe knows they won’t discuss it again.

* * *

  
“You know what game I always wanted to play as a kid?”

Cabe glances up from his Monopoly money. They’ve been working on this particular game for the past two nights. “What?”

“It’s stupid,” she says, “but I always thought Life looked fun. Driving around in your little van with your plastic family. I liked how…normal it seemed.”

The tiny hitch in her voice gives him pause. He looks over at her briefly before putting on the most casual tone he can muster.

“You might not win that game every time,” he replies, sighing at his meager stash of bills. “Can’t always strategize your way through Life.”

He winks as he says it, which draws a groan from Happy.

“Don’t you think that’s a little on-the-nose?”

“Hey, I don’t make up the metaphors. I just point them out.”

“That’s a dad thing, isn’t it?”

She says it so easily, with a friendly roll of her eyes. Cabe thinks that it’s nice to see her smiling, even if she happens to be making fun of him.

He thinks about the brooch that’s been burning a hole in his pocket.

“Yeah,” he says. “I guess it is a dad thing.”

 

* * *

 

He hadn’t meant to bring so many of his things over to Happy’s place during his stay, hadn’t meant to settle down as much as he had. It ends up taking him quite a while to pack everything up.

If he folds his clothes a little more slowly than he needs to, neither he nor Happy mentions it. They also don’t comment on the fact that Happy chooses chess as their game of the night. Cabe knows for a fact that she hates chess, but it is the game that takes them the longest to play. It distracts him to the point that by the time he finishes packing, the late-night talk shows have already started.

“You know,” he says as Happy puts the chess board away, “I’m gonna miss it here. I forgot how nice it is having someone else around when you get in from work.”

Happy nods. “Yeah. Uh, me too.”

She shuffles her feet.

“It’s kind of late. You, uh, you can stay here one more night if you want.”

“Think I might just do that. It’s past time to hit the sack anyway.”

But Happy shows no intention of hitting the sack at all. Instead she stands there, shifting from foot to foot. Cabe is a little bewildered.

“Um,” she says to the floor. “We still on for Stratego night Thursday?”

And he can finally hear that trace of fear in her voice, the fear that has kept her running from every good thing. She stands hunched in on herself, every muscle tense, a posture that simultaneously screams _I don’t need you_ and _Please don’t leave._ Cabe hears the voice loud and clear.

Neither of them are huggers, necessarily, but he reaches out anyway. It feels like an opportune moment. Happy seems to agree; she meets him halfway as he holds his arms open. The contact is quick, but Cabe thinks he can feel her shoulders relax somewhat.

“Sure are, kiddo,” he assures her, because some things just need to be said out loud. “I’ll be here.”

 

 


	3. Paige

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Paige is finally allowed to be a bit of a wreck

His middle child takes after him in many ways; so much so that the mirror is painful at times. She appears cool as a cucumber to anyone who observes her at work, but it’s become increasingly clear to Cabe that she hides chaos underneath. She’s one of the toughest people he has ever known. Cabe gets a lot of the credit for being the “muscle” of the team, but he thinks that Paige Dineen is easily the strongest of them all. She has to be, in order to take every hit that’s thrown at her.

She is adept at cutting through nonsense in order to get to the heart of things. Except, of course, when she turns the task to herself.

“Cabe, be honest with me,” she says to him one day, smiling. “What do you think of Tim?”

“Tim in general, or Tim with you?”

“Tim with me. Come on, Cabe, you know him better than anyone.”

Cabe thinks on it a moment.

“I know he’s a good guy,” he says after a beat. “Trustworthy as they come. And he’s normal, that’s for sure.”

Tim is about as bread-and-butter as it gets. He would make a good boyfriend, a good husband, a good father. He would create the sort of life that Cabe can’t quite picture for Paige. But who is he to make that judgment?

“He is,” says Paige happily. “I think I like that about him."

* * *

 

That Christmas turns out to be one of the worst on record, by all accounts. Cabe thinks back to the look on Ralph’s face when he’d given him the pocketknife, just to salvage the smallest happy memory of the day. He’s asleep on the couch now that the garage is quiet, likely exhausted from his ordeal. Everyone else has gone home, or in Walter’s case, retreated upstairs. Cabe walks around the garage with two cups of coffee in his hand, searching.

He turns the corner to find Paige pressed against the wall, eyes squeezed shut.

“Hey.”

When she sees that it’s him, she gives him what almost passes as her usual smile. It’s beautiful as ever, but watery.

“Thought you could use some coffee,” he offers, holding up the mug in his left hand.

Paige sighs. “I definitely could.”

“So,” he says once they’ve migrated to the table, “would you say this is the most terrible Christmas you’ve ever had, or the second most terrible?”

Paige gives a tiny, bitter-sounding laugh. “Maybe the third most terrible. Ralph and I had some pretty lean Christmases a few years back. But this one is definitely…different.”

She takes a sip of her coffee and Cabe waits.

“It feels like the distance is only getting bigger between me and everyone else in this garage,” she says after a while. “I don’t know what to do. I thought about calling Toby, but—”

“You know it’s not smart to use your friend as your shrink, right? I’ve seen you two whispering.”

She sighs again. “I know. It just feels easier to open up when he puts on that stupid doctor voice. And even when I talk to him, I can tell he doesn’t get it. I might as well be a rat in a maze for him to analyze. But part of me would still rather have that than an honest conversation with a genius.”

Cabe thinks he understands where she’s coming from. He’s done some terrifying things in his life and career, and getting vulnerable with Walter O’Brien ranks among the most terrifying. He’s tried to learn how to keep out the sting when it’s clear they aren’t connecting. Cabe knows it isn’t personal. And yet, it _is_. It always is.

Abruptly, Paige laughs.

“And I’m supposed to be the one who’s emotionally stable. God,” she groans into her hands, “help us.”

“How about this?” says Cabe. “You don’t want to talk to a genius about it, fine. You’ve got other options.”

Paige looks confused for a moment and he chuckles. “What am I, chopped liver?”

“Really?” she asks, and the look she gives him is such pure relief that Cabe is embarrassed not to have sought her out sooner.

“It’s Walter. Obviously. Well, I guess it’s everything, but right now it’s _Walter.”_ She grinds his name out through her teeth. “He doesn’t understand at all. He’s treating Tim and me like…like variables in a formula. Objects that he can move around to get the solution he wants. How dare he act like he didn’t cross the line? Like this is all normal?”

She gestures at him, a bit of a wild edge to her movements.

“Help me here,” she says. “You see it too, right? Walter went out of his way to make it impossible for Tim to be here. He’s done nothing but interfere in our relationship. And I can already hear him telling me ‘you wouldn’t be angry if you examined the facts.’ Well, I want to be angry! I deserve to a chance to feel angry!”

Cabe finds that his first instinct is to jump to Walter’s defense. He hadn’t meant to be manipulative, and it’s obvious that he sincerely wants the best for Paige and Ralph. But Paige already knows all this.

“Kid,” he says helplessly, “he just…you can’t expect him to be different overnight.”

“I _know_ that, Cabe,” she says wearily. “That’s all I ever hear. But it doesn’t make the roller coaster any easier.”

She slumps in her chair, looking about as overwhelmed as Cabe feels just from listening to her.

“I know that Walter has a lot of wonderful qualities,” she says determinedly. “He’s a remarkable person. He is. But is it wrong for me to be exhausted?”

They let the question hang there in silence.

“I don’t know, kid,” Cabe finally says. “But that punching bag back there? It’s all yours whenever you want to use it.”

He can’t remember the last time he felt so inadequate, but at least Paige does laugh a bit. Sometimes, he figures, that’s all there is to be done.

* * *

  
Cabe likes spending time with the team. And he’s truly grateful for what they’ve done for him; no one else could have done better. But after almost dying in the desert less than 24 hours before, it’s also nice to have some peace and quiet for once. When he hears his door open, he’s already half-irritated imagining Toby bickering with Walter or Sly.

It’s an immense relief to see Ralph at the door instead.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says, clearing his throat. “What a nice surprise.”

Ralph doesn’t say anything, but he does rush over to give Cabe a hug.

“He wanted to say hello before we went to the garage,” says Paige with a soft smile from the doorway. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Course it is.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Ralph tells him. His eyes are wide as he inspects Cabe.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Look.” Ralph opens his backpack and places it on the bed. He shuffles his tablet and some papers around, eventually revealing a snug side pocket for the knife Cabe had given him.

“I’m not allowed to take it to school,” he explains, “but on Saturdays I keep it in here where it’s safe. And I’ve been getting it out at home, too.”

“While supervised, of course,” Paige chimes in. Cabe is glad to see her looking rested from the previous day. He’s also glad to see her with Ralph. As she looks over at her son, Cabe recognizes her expression all too well. It’s the look of a person who has their north star here on Earth, right in front of them.

* * *

  
Paige takes on a shell-shocked demeanor after her mother leaves. Veronica Dineen had been a tornado; Cabe wonders how many times Paige has pulled herself from the debris left behind. He thinks he knows her better now, after meeting her mother. But then again, they had all thought they’d known everything there was to know about Paige before; Walter most of all.

“I like this sink or swim thing, kid,” he says to her over their morning coffee, mostly for small talk. “It’s gotta happen sometime.”

“Well, you’re the only one,” Paige replies with a frown. “I started this approach for a reason, but I’m not sure it’s working the way I hoped.”

Cabe thinks of pointing out that there might be more than one reason she’d started the approach. In fact, he’s pretty sure there are several reasons that have nothing to do with professionalism. But that’s exactly the type of smug thing Toby would say, so he shuts his mouth abruptly. Some lessons can’t be forced.

“You said yourself it would take time,” is the answer he goes with. “It’s probably too early to tell how it’s going.”

Paige looks wistfully out at the team. They’re all engrossed in a Proton Arnold tournament, Ralph along with them. Cabe wonders if they will play until all of Tim’s previous scores are erased from the machine’s memory. He wonders if Proton Arnold even works that way.

“They expect me to have every single answer,” Paige murmurs so quietly that Cabe almost doesn’t hear it. “All the time. Like it’s nothing.”

“They think what you do is easy,” he says firmly, because he himself has been guilty of it too. He reminds himself that everyone else on the team has had years of training and expertise in their fields. Paige has learned her job on the fly, taken on administrative tasks simply because the geniuses couldn’t be bothered to do them, and done so while being referred to as “the waitress” too many times to count.

Paige is tough, but it’s a lot for one person to take.

“I don’t say this enough, but you do good work, Paige.” He pats her shoulder and smiles. “Just in case you don’t hear it again for a while.”

* * *

  
Paige is dry and bundled up in multiple sweaters when she approaches Cabe in the kitchen, but the tremors in her hands linger. Cabe guesses that a few hours spent stranded in open ocean will do that to a person. She makes sure no one is listening too closely, and when she speaks her voice is small.

“You know that feeling when you realize you’ve done something for all the wrong reasons?”

One of the cardinal rules of fatherhood: try to avoid saying “I told you so” even when there’s an obvious opening. Really, it’s one of the cardinal rules of any relationship. And besides, he does know the feeling Paige is describing—all too well. Cabe has made his own share of missteps.

“Sink or swim, huh?” he offers, reaching an arm around her shoulders. Paige’s eyes fill.

“It’s a good idea in theory,” she says. “But I could have given him a little warning. I see that now.”

“He’ll be all right. And so will you.”

“I’m tired of being angry but I can’t seem to stop. I just feel so lost,” she whispers. Cabe feels a twist in his gut watching her. He wishes fervently for a scraped knee or a flat bike tire; something he can fix right away and send Paige on her way with a smile. The feeling reminds him of one of the toughest lessons he had learned as a father; there are some things that a pep talk just won’t fix.

“It won’t last forever, kid.”

“What if it does?”

“Then,” he says, trying to project confidence he doesn’t feel, “we figure it out. Just remember you’re not alone.”

Paige looks up at him, puffy-eyed. Cabe smiles down at her and she tries to smile back.

He decides to think of it as progress.


End file.
